


Romance Is Dead

by TentativeWanderer



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, But I believe the main point is humor, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Consensual Sex, Enraged Yuri Plisetsky, Humor, M/M, Save me I ended up writing porn just because I wanted to write a stupid joke of a line, Top Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 21:10:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15894213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TentativeWanderer/pseuds/TentativeWanderer
Summary: ...And Viktor will join it soon once Yuri is done with him, because it'sall his fault.





	Romance Is Dead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alykapedia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alykapedia/gifts).



> Guess which line/joke made me divest myself of dignity and write things which I never thought I'd write.
> 
> Gifting this fic to alykapedia, who writes respectable porn, i.e. porn-like porn and not the inexperienced trash that appears here. I tried.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the wind was sighing. Gauzy curtains swayed gracefully, revealing glimpses of sybaritic opulence that characterised the presidential suite. However, the scene that was currently taking place within that splendid setting...could not be called opulent. “Primal” was the right word.  
  
The lewd sounds of flesh smacking against flesh were interspersed with soft panting and high, muffled cries.  
  
Viktor gently pried Yuuri’s hands away from his mouth. “Don’t silence yourself, sweetheart. You can let go. We have the entire floor to ourselves.”  He leaned closer, pushing deeper inside Yuuri with a tiny squelch. “There’s no one else to hear you even if you scream.”  
  
Yuuri let out a shuddering breath and removed his wrists from Viktor’s loose grip. He used his hands to cover his eyes instead. “I know, but it’s still...embarrassing.”  
  
“So shy, my Yuuri, even after all this time. We’ll have to work on that.” Viktor lovingly nuzzled Yuuri’s neck. “As your coach, it’s my job to help you gain confidence.”  
  
“But in the current context,” Yuuri gestured vaguely at their lower regions, “it’s technically not your job, it’s like...volunteer work...”  
  
Viktor huffed out a laugh. “Why are you so unromantic? Where has your Eros gone, Yuuri?”  
  
Yuuri wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, and Viktor knew it. Almost immediately, his lover’s gaze went dark and inviting as he surged upwards, stopping a hair’s breadth from Viktor’s nose. “How dare you.” The words were murmured against Viktor’s lips. The point was emphasised with a sensual grind and a fluttering squeeze.  
  
Viktor was prepared, so he only grinned in reply. “Unromantic and _lascivious_.”  
  
Yuuri’s Eros persona slipped off. “You’re so mean! I thought you were supposed to build up my confidence. Besides, I...” He sputtered, feeling a peculiar combination of fond frustration and the urge to laugh. “I put a ring on your finger while we were serenaded by a choir with a cathedral as the backdrop! You, on the other hand, proudly presented your...your stark naked self to me the very first time you came to Hasetsu!”  
  
Viktor objected: “No, I rose from the steamy waters like a nereid rises from the waves in response to the siren song of her beloved, who previously _dumped her_ thanks to the obliviating effect of sixteen glasses of champagne.”  
  
“...I didn’t mean to!”  
  
“I concede that fact. Still, you have _wronged_ me, and now I intend to...collect my dues.” Yuuri looked like he was going to protest, so Viktor quickly pinned him to the luxuriously soft mattress with his entire body, intertwining their fingers. A long, searing kiss left Yuuri gasping, disoriented. Viktor admired his flushed cheeks, radiant as the dawn, and his dishevelled hair, dark as ink on the snowy pillow. “Fret not, my love. I’ll take good care of you.”  
  
Yuuri shivered as teeth nibbled at his ear, followed by a whisper: “Here, there are no consequences. You can do anything you like, be as wanton as you like.” Viktor pulled back a little and thrusted, hard, making Yuuri yelp inadvertently.  
  
“Sing for me, _moya ptichka_.”  
  
Later, they discovered that Viktor was wrong, that there _were_ consequences. They may have had the whole floor to themselves, but the window had been left ajar. One floor below, Otabek Altin paused mid-sentence as suspicious noises assaulted his eardrums. Beside him, Yuri Plisetsky froze, goosebumps rising on his skin.  
  
“GODDAMMIT can’t a guy look at the fucking sunset in peace—” Yuri screamed as Otabek dragged him back indoors and shut the balcony windows decisively.  
  
Viktor was mauled that night, not in the way he wanted and not by the person he wanted.

**Author's Note:**

>  _moya ptichka_ : my little bird. (No, not _that_ bird.)
> 
> I hope you are satisfied with the corruption of my innocent soul and sullying of my virgin hands for the sake of this fic. Kudos and comments are appreciated. Constructive criticism and mindless rambling are both welcome.
> 
> Here is my tumblr: [@tentative-wanderer](https://tentative-wanderer.tumblr.com/), where I mostly reblog YOI stuff.


End file.
